As the creek did filter upon the weaving
inlet the shimmering abundance hung
high in the sky. A lonely owl did look
upon its surroundings and then it took
to speaking to the night. The water wheel  
gently did turn creaking as if an old clock

All were slumbering in nights tranquillity,
The moon was suspended in gentility  
Lights did linger in each  silent house,
nothing stirred in the village not even a mouse.